


Floodgates

by EllieRose101



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 04, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23105227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieRose101/pseuds/EllieRose101
Summary: Willow’s engagement spell ends, but Buffy and Spike don’t want to let each other go. Now all their feelings have been brought to the surface, it’s like they can’t stop them. If anything, the feelings are getting stronger. But would being swept away be really such a bad thing?
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Comments: 7
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated for explicit sexual content.

Spike lips. Lips of Spike!

Holy hell, Buffy couldn’t get enough. Her tongue sliding against his, she pulled his lower lip between her teeth and nibbled on it, eliciting a groan from beneath her. She smiled against his mouth in response, loving the feel of him under her.

Spike was caressing her back, pulling her closer, and Buffy couldn’t give a damn about anything else. Even if she was vaguely aware of commotion going on elsewhere in the room.

She felt it the moment it all ended – some unquantifiable shift in the air that had her leaning back to catch her breath while things righted in her head. Except not. Because nothing was right at all anymore. All of the contentment and certainty she’d had was gone in an instant and she was adrift. Bereft.

She wanted it back, damn it!

Spike had opened his eyes and was staring at her, entirely bewildered – processing, but not reacting; paused as if waiting for a cue. Buffy realized in _that_ moment that she had all the power. A new kind of certainty came to her, just off how he was looking at her – hungry and terrified – that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him; that he would take her, never to let go, if only she gave into what they’d started.

Conversely, Buffy also knew that if she pulled away right then, he’d go the opposite way and deny everything – play the part of horrified, unwilling lover and push her off to try and save face. It’s what she should have done, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not now he’d opened the floodgates and set free all the feelings she’d been repressing for so long. It shocked her how much she wanted to drown in him, and that shock made her realize the moment was passing and she was out of time. Take any longer to react and the opportunity would have vanished without her. He would be gone.

Feeling the eyes of her friends burrowing into her back, Buffy leaned down and delivered one last, lingering kiss, desperate to get the message to the Vampire beneath her. Of course, she’d tell her friends later that it was still the spell in action, just as long as _he_ knew differently.

Slowly, Spike’s mouth began to move with hers again, and she knew he understood. Then she pulled away, gave him a quick wink, and promptly turned to Willow with an exclamation of “What did you do?!”

\---

Spike was impressed with the show. If he didn’t know any better, he himself would be convinced by Buffy’s display of utter embarrassment and confusion that there wasn’t something deeper at play. But there was no time to be proud, it was his turn to join in the performance.

“Bloody hell, Red!” he exclaimed, even while enjoying the fact that Buffy was still straddling his waist.

“Umm…” Willow stammered. “Hi, guys.”

With a final swirl of her hips, Buffy stood up and dispatched any demons not already beating a hasty retreat. Xander and Anya began talking over each other to Willow so, with no attention on him, Spike allowed himself to watch the Slayer closely.

God, she was magnificent. The way she just barrelled in and got the job done. He licked his lips and spared a thought for his hard-on, pressing painfully into the zip of his jeans.

With his mind a jumble, it was easier to focus on the physical: the bounce of her hair, the curve of her arse. Bloody hell, he was doomed. She had been so hot and so close, it was like his neurons were fried. It was a relief when they exited the crypt into the cool night air.

It seemed to be a foregone conclusion that everyone would simply go back to Giles’ flat for debriefing. Everyone bar Spike, who was stood still, and Buffy, who hesitated, automatically started heading that way only to pause and turn back as soon as they noticed Buffy wasn’t right behind them.

Xander looked from her to Spike. “Don’t think you’re gonna run away. Buffy could catch you again in a second.”

Spike blinked at him. _Run away? Why in the hell would I want to– Oh, right._ His hostage status had somewhat slipped his mind, what with all the wedding planning. There was no way in fuck he was going back to being tied up again. _Well…._ He looked at Buffy again. _At least not in those circumstances._

Buffy looked torn, like she wanted an excuse to slip away as much as he did, but hadn’t the first idea what the excuse might be.

“I remembered something,” said Spike quickly. “On the walk over here, I saw a spot that I think the soldier boys used.”

Buffy stared at him for a second, then turned back to her friends. “We should check it out. No time like the present.”

Xander looked like he wanted to object, but then Anya leaned close to his ear and suggested they go back to his basement for “alone time.”

“All right,” said Xander to the group at large. “You do your scout-y thing, me and Anya are gonna head home. Willow, will you be okay?”

Spike rankled at the boy taking charge but forced himself not to say anything, sarcastic or otherwise. His fingers were itching to touch Buffy again and the sooner they were alone, the better.

“I’ll be fine,” said Willow, glumly. “I should check on Giles.”

“Great,” said Buffy, altogether too chipper. She caught herself when Xander and Willow stared at her, adding in a much more casual tone, “We should go.”

Willow and Xander shrugged off the weirdness and headed on their way, Anya trailing behind. As soon as they were out of sight, Buffy turned to Spike.

“God, I thought they were never gonna leave!”

He grinned. “Maybe made that a little bit obvious.”

She waved a hand. “They’ll be fine. Props on the cover story, by the way.”

“Wasn’t,” said Spike.

“Huh?”

“It wasn’t a cover story,” he clarified. “I really did notice familiar tracks on the way here.”

“Oh.” The smile was gone from her face again, replaced with a look of apprehension. “Do, um… do you wanna check it out?”

“Not right this second, no.”

“Right,” said Buffy, her face flushed as she took in the foliage around her.

Spike wondered then if this whole thing had been a mistake. Was she getting cold feet? Had he ruined the mood? Was it best to call things quits now, before they got even more out of hand?

“So, uh…” Buffy tried again.

Spike sighed, knowing the situation was helpless. He couldn’t walk away any more than she could stop herself from broadcasting her emotions right across her face. Her beautiful, glowing face.

In two steps, he was beside her. Running his thumbs along the curves of her cheekbones, he inhaled once, then leaned close to kiss her again.


	2. Chapter 2

If Buffy thought Spike was a good kisser before – and she did, because he _really_ was – it was even better now. Not that she knew how that was even possible.

That same intensity was there, but he’d slowed it down, like he was savoring it. Savoring _her_.

She closed her eyes and savored him right back, a gasp escaping her lips when he pulled away to give attention to the column of her throat instead. He hummed against her flesh and she felt a shiver ripple through her.

Buffy moaned as she felt Spike’s grip on her arms tighten. Her head lolled back and legs spread of their own accord, giving him room to stand closer, snug between her thighs.

The tingles at the back of her neck kicked up a gear, and Buffy knew she should be taking them as a warning, except they felt just so damn good.

One of Spike’s hands trailed over to her breast and her nipple puckered between his finger and thumb. Then he stilled, each part of his body – which had previously seemed independent – stopping at exactly the same time.

Buffy raised her head again and looked at him, eyes wide. She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but stopped when he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Her heart crumpled at the rejection. He’d come to his senses. She’d probably pushed too far, too fast.

Spike tilted his head to the side and she realized he was listening to something. Thank god! Better some demon she could rip the head off than Spike not wanting her anymore. She strained her ears but couldn’t pick up whatever he was hearing. Her body coiled like a spring; she held her breath and resolved to stand there and wait it out until Spike did something else, no matter how much confusion swirled in her head, or how much it hurt not to be touching him.

The stalemate was torture, but eventually Spike muttered “bugger” under his breath and unceremoniously pushed Buffy into some bushes. She still didn’t know what was happening but had just enough awareness to know _something_ was wrong.

About thirty seconds after the bushes had enveloped them, Buffy’s ears finally picked up the sound of approaching footsteps. Ten seconds after that, soldiers came into view.

God, she was really starting to hate those guys.

From the corner of her eye, Buffy saw Spike grin before pressing a finger to his lips. She rolled her eyes in turn, because _duh, got the memo already_! If only he’d given her some kind of signal a few minutes earlier, before she’d gone crazy with worry.

The soldiers moved on and Spike threw Buffy a questioning look. She pursed her lips, thinking about it, before gesturing for him to go ahead.

Hand-in-hand, they followed the commandos at a distance, almost the whole way back to campus. That was weird. Were they really based so close to where she studied? Before she had time to consider it fully, the feel of Spike’s hand in hers had Buffy’s brain trailing off to where they’d left things in the graveyard. God, it was like she was in heat. It’d be embarrassing as hell if Spike called her on it, but all he did was cast her a sidelong glance and roll his tongue behind his teeth.

_Guhh!_

Buffy hung back a little further, letting the commandos go out of sight and waiting until Spike came to a stop. Recon was cool and everything, but if she didn’t have that tongue against her increasingly heated flesh soon, she would scream.

Mercifully, Spike seemed to understand her plight because in the next instant he was licking a path between her breasts that made her think she might just scream either way.

Buffy’s eyes were sliding closed again when she caught sight of something, a moment too late. _Shit!_ One of the soldier assholes was right behind Spike, his gun raised. She rolled, dragging Spike with her, before they both popped back to their feet.

Spike growled as the butt of the soldier’s gun came down on his back again, hard. _Double shit._ They were surrounded, and all because she’d lost focus and hadn’t noticed them noticing they had a tail.

Buffy kicked a guy looming close behind her and heard a crunch at the same time as Spike lunged at his attacker only to reel back in pain. The sudden realization that they were outnumbered against humans and Spike was defenseless hit her like a ton of bricks and she hesitated, arm held half-extended towards him.

It was a stupid mistake, and one that almost cost her.

At the last second, Spike jumped up again, putting his body between her and the soldier and taking a taser blast full in the chest. He shuddered and fell to his knees.

Buffy saw red. 

With a roundhouse kick, she knocked back the three guys who had closed ranks behind her before delivering swift punches to the jaws of the guys in front, the one holding the taser first. It dropped to the ground and so did Spike.

Buffy couldn’t afford to let him stay down for long, not knowing how many reinforcements might be on their way, or from which direction. She cursed herself for having let down her guard and putting them in that position in the first place.

Curling her arms under Spike’s armpits, she pulled him to his feet and let him lean on her as they ran for cover.

\---

Spike ached all over. His chest was in agony, his brain hurt, and his cock still hadn’t quite taken the hint that shagging was off the cards in favor of running for his life. It strained hard against the rough denim of his jeans and he ignored it best he could. Which wasn’t very bloody well at all.

“Where we headed?” he asked Buffy, scrabbling for a distraction

“Mom’s house,” she answered. “She’s away on work.”

Spike nodded and picked up the pace. The sooner he was indoors, the sooner he could start processing just what in the hell had gone wrong. A half-hour before, he’d had Buffy backed up against the wall of a crypt, the heat of her cunt seeping into him even through his clothes, and now here he was, running away from bloody humans while his muscles seized intermittently.

Buffy fumbled with her house key but eventually got the door open. She put Spike’s arm back around her shoulders and walked him over to the couch, where she placed him carefully before moving over to the phone.

Spike half-listened to a harried conversation with her watcher – her telling him they’d been jumped but were together and safe, laying low – as he pondered just how come his invitation to Joyce’s had remained intact after all this time. So much had happened since their little truce against Angelus. Had that really been only two years ago? No. He did a little mental calculation and came up short. It was less than two years. How in the hell that made any sense, he didn’t know.

Buffy set down the phone and walked back over to Spike, cutting off all his wayward thoughts and placing his attention firmly back on her in the here and now.

“Your knuckles,” he said. “You’re bleeding.”

Buffy looked down at the torn skin of her hands and grimaced.

“I’ll fix them up,” said Spike. “You’ve got a kit, right?”

“Uhh, right,” said Buffy. “I….” She bit her lip. “I’ll be right back.”

She began to move towards the stairs but Spike caught her hand in his and pulled her close, pressing her palm to his cheek. It was shaking. Or was that him?

“Buffy,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” she replied, just as softly. “Weird night.”

He looked up at her, eyes piercing. “You regret it?”

She smiled, if a little shyly. “Just that last part. How’s your chest?”

“I’ll live,” he said, then laughed, regretting it instantly as the reverberations of mirth triggered a fresh spasm across his ribs. “Fucking wankers,” he spat through clenched teeth.

“We’ll get them,” vowed Buffy, taking back her hand. “Figure out a plan.” She disappeared for a moment and returned with the first aid kit to sit opposite him. Spike used cotton pads and a little bottle of saline solution to clean the cuts across her knuckles before setting down Band-Aids and kissing the completed job.

Buffy’s whole body leaned towards him and, like a man possessed, Spike continued the kisses up her arm and across her collarbone until he was at her throat again, panting heavily against the heated skin he found there.

She slipped out of her jacket and pressed herself into him on the couch, one leg falling either side of his waist as he hissed against the return of warmth to his crotch.

“Is this okay?”

“More than bloody okay, Slayer,” he affirmed, before correcting himself. “Buffy. Bloody hell, do you have any idea what you do to me?”

She leaned close to his ear and said, breathily, "Oh, I haven't even started."


	3. Chapter 3

Buffy wasn’t used to being so brazen, but she soon discovered it was something she definitely liked.

Judging by the way Spike was thrusting against her before they’d even got their clothes off, he was clearly liking it too. He was breathing heavily against her throat, hands clamped tightly to her hips as she swiveled them, grinding down in time with each upward thrust.

Buffy couldn’t help but smile. She felt like some kind of sex queen, the effect she had on him. Which would have been funny, given her extreme lack of experience, except it was just too amazing. Spike was intoxicating, not holding back on making clear exactly what he wanted, and all Buffy could do was bask in the liberation of it. She wanted to make the most of it, and that limited past experience said she needed a bed to do so. 

“Do you want to– _oh, god! Right there!_ –want to g-go upstairs?”

He shook his head. “Later. Here, now.”

Buffy grinned wider, feeling even more emboldened by his inability to form a full sentence. If Mr. Experience didn’t think they needed a bed, she’d trust him. She pushed his coat off his shoulders and began kneading his pecs through his t-shirt, enjoying the feel of his hardened nipples poking through the soft material.

Spike’s hands skimmed along the skin underneath her t-shirt before travelling up to unhook her bra. No longer held together at the back, the straps slid part-way down her arms before being stopped by the sleeves of her t-shirt, which Spike divested her of the next second, tossing it into the corner of the room along with the bra as he pulled first one nipple, then the other, between his lips.

God! Buffy bucked against him and leaned down to capture his mouth with hers as he undid the button of her pants. She had to awkwardly shift her weight a few times to get them all the way off, but was rewarded by full contact with Spike’s cock when she settled again. He’d unbuttoned himself and shimmied his jeans down as far as his knees.

Locking eyes with Spike, Buffy wrapped her hand around his dick, rubbed the tip along her slit and then pressed it against her opening.

Spike swore, his eyes rolling back in his head as she guided him the rest of the way home. Buffy eased up a little then slid back down again, getting used to the stretch and pull. It didn’t take long. Soon, they were frantic again, Spike surging up and her pinning him down, squeezing him just right.

“Can’t – _uh!_ – hold it,” he panted.

“So don’t,” breathed Buffy. She flicked her hair off her shoulder and leaned her head back, the slight change in angle giving Spike better access to her breasts again. He pressed his forehead to her sternum and pistoned his hips faster before coming in a grunt.

“Bloody hell, Buffy!”

She hushed him and stroked his hair as he came down, preparing herself to dismount when he finally stopped shuddering and looked up from her chest. His pupils were dilated, like he was high, or a cat about to pounce on something. Buffy got lost looking into the void. Rather than letting Spike go, she found herself threading her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. She didn’t know how long the kiss lasted, but it was time enough for him to grow hard again.

He turned, pushing her down onto the couch cushions so he could be on top, and pumped and pumped until she was on the verge of coming herself. That surprised her. She’d figured when he was done, they both were, but here he was pounding away like he’d never had release in his life.

A loud moan escaped Buffy as her hips jerked all on their own. Spike’s left hand was beside her head, holding him above her. He watched her face closely as his right hand travelled from her nipple down to her clit where it slid against her, making the jerk of her hips all the more violent.

“You like that, baby?”

“Guhh-uh!”

He grinned and swirled his fingers in a figure eight until she all but exploded.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed, her back arching and eyes falling closed. Before she had time to ride out the aftershocks, Spike released her clit and anchored his hand on the other side of her head, giving him all the support he needed to speed up his final thrusts. He came a second time, dragging her back over the edge with him, before flopping down to lie flush on top of her.

“God, Buffy, I love you!”

\---

Entirely blissed out of his head, it took some time for Spike to realize what he’d said. Surreptitiously, he leaned back a little so he could look at Buffy’s face to discern if she’d noticed. 

She was staring at him, wide-eyed. “Was– was that a carryover from the spell?”

_Shit!_ So she’d definitely noticed. He made a non-committal noise and tried to sit up but she held him fast.

“It’s okay. Spells make you do the wacky. It doesn’t matter. I mean, I’m not expecting you to feel…” she trailed off, clearly losing confidence in her spiel.

Spike closed his eyes and braced himself. It really would be a much easier conversation if he wasn’t still inside her, but he had a feeling that Buffy’s walls would go up if he pulled away. Not that he blamed her, given how mucked about she’d been before now.

“I felt it,” he admitted.

“What?”

He opened his eyes and looked at her properly. “It wasn’t the spell.”

Buffy’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Bloody hell, she was gonna make him spell the whole sodding thing out. He sighed. “Remember last year, when Dru left me?”

“Uh, sure?” said Buffy.

“Well,” said Spike. “That’s why she left.” He looked expectantly at Buffy, wondering when the penny would drop, but all she did was look even more perplexed. When he tried to get up again, she let him.

They sat side-by-side on the couch, her entirely naked and him still with his t-shirt on and jeans around his knees, both covered in each other’s juices.

“Spike, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying Dru had a vision. Some insight into my feelings.”

“Your feelings?” questioned Buffy.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Yes, my bloody feelings. She figured them out before I did– that I’m totally, over my tits in love with you!”

Buffy blinked at him. “Y-you? And me?” she stuttered.

He sighed again, annoyed with himself for ballsing it up. He hadn’t ever intended to tell her, but certainly not like that. “Yes, Buffy,” he said more calmly, “I love you.”

Spike reached out his hand for hers, more terrified than he’d ever been, and more happy than anything when she tentatively held him back.

“I’m sorry it came out like that.”

She shook her head. “Don’t be. It was…” she smiled shyly. “It was pretty great.”

He beamed at her, finally allowing himself to breathe again. The heady scent of her filled his nostrils and his cock sprang back to life. “Upstairs, did you say, pet?”

“Sure,” she said, with a blush.

That gave him pause. He’d made her come twice, not counting all the stifled moans he’d elicited from all the heavy petting while still at her watcher’s place, _and_ confessed his love, but now he was sensing a hint of hesitation. Was the love declaration still too raw? It had definitely been a shock, so it made sense she’d need time to think about it. He hoped that was all it was and was about to tell her there was no pressure when she said, “I haven’t really done this part before.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Which part?”

“The, um… second one.”

_Eh?_ “What on earth are you going on about?”

Buffy’s blush deepened. “Okay, my turn at confession time. I, uh….” She looked away. “I’ve never had a guy hang around long enough for a second time.”

“Wankers,” said Spike. “Never deserved you.”

A smile touched her lips and she looked up at him again, through her lashes. “This, um… the second time. It sounds stupid, but it kinda means something to me.”

“Of course, love,” said Spike. “Makes perfect sense.”

“It does?” she questioned, now openly studying his face.

He brought her hand to his lips. “Yeah, pet, it does.”

Her smile widened. “I was worried you might have had enough, once all the lust had worn off.”

He laughed. “Worn off? I’m hornier now than I was earlier. An’ I’ve already told you I love you, haven’t I? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh,” said Buffy. The last of her blush subsided and she beamed at him. “Good.”

Spike untied his boots, stood up, and kicked them off along with his jeans before pulling his t-shirt over his head and holding his hand out to her again.

There was zero hesitation as she took it and led the way upstairs to her bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time Buffy reached her bedroom, butterflies had sprung back to life inside her belly. Before, everything had been instinctual, but now her brain was back online and she wasn’t quite sure what she made of it all.

Did she want to have sex? Yes.

Did she want to have sex with Spike? Damn near exclusively! So, yeah, she had a lack of experience, but she didn’t need to have slept with half the world to know he was good at it. In the maybe forty minutes they’d been rutting against each other on her mom’s couch, Spike had made Buffy feel more wanted than three years of the off-again-on-again suckfest that was her relationship with Angel. It wasn’t just a physical thing, and it wasn’t some fuzzy ‘we’re destined to be together but, oh, fate is against us and we can’t actually be together’ thing. Which didn’t even make sense, now she thought about it. And it was already a hundred levels above the nothing she had with Parker, which was great, but that greatness was kinda wigsome in its own way, because it was Spike. 

Buffy had known Spike for three years, and she’d dreamed of things between them lots of times, but it hadn’t been like this in her head and she never for one second thought it would actually happen. This was better. _He_ was better. He loved her, which is not something she’d ever factored in. Buffy thought about the ferocity of devotion he’d shown to Drusilla and felt something almost tangible coil in her stomach. She craved that devotion at her most base level, and he seemed more than willing to give it to her. That was a heady thought. The coiled need snapped tight and butterflies scattered.

Spike lightly touched her bare shoulder and she shivered. “You all right, love?”

She leaned against him, glad that his proximity made her instincts kick in again. “Yeah, just…” she said on a sigh, “could you keep doing that?”

“This?” asked Spike, lightly running his fingers down her arms and across her back.

“ _Ohhh_ , god yes!” Her eyes closed of their own accord and the room fell away. So long as he was touching her, it didn’t matter that they were standing in the middle of her childhood bedroom, naked and vulnerable.

Spike laid feather-light kisses across her collarbone and up to her throat. She should probably be worried about his fixation with having his mouth there, except for how it made total sense and felt _amazing_.

Buffy felt the tension leave her body as Spike slowly backed her up until the back of her calves came in contact with the bed, then pushed her lightly down on top of her comforter, his kisses travelling south. He got as far as her belly button before her brain engaged again and she realised his destination. 

She sat up on her elbows, ready to object, and he locked eyes with her. 

“Let me,” he said – not a command, but a desperate plea – like a starving man asking for a scrap of bread. The raw hunger in his voice made her swallow. 

Before switching off again, the logical part of her brain registered that there was nothing more to her initial apprehension than simply not having experienced it before. And the way Spike was looking at her, she could tell wholeheartedly that this meant so much to him. Not only was he hungry, he was starved specifically for _her_ flesh. The intoxication of that knowledge swept over her. He wanted – no, _needed_ – to devour her and, suddenly, she needed to feel that too. 

She nodded once and lay back, splayed before him as he licked lazy circles against the sensitive flesh of her thighs. Her fingers threaded through his hair and she all but melted as soon as his lips touched her sodden folds.

“Bloody hell,” he exclaimed against her, his breath eliciting another shiver.

Buffy felt herself blush. “I taste okay?”

“Delicious,” Spike vowed. “So bloody warm.” He lapped at her again, torturously slow. Buffy tightened her hold on his hair, but he apparently wouldn’t be swayed into going any faster. Smiling against her, he promised to “make it good.”

“It’s already good. I– I need–” her words cut off in a whine as he moved his tongue to her clit and slid fingers inside her. “ _Ohhhh!_ ”

“That what you need, baby?” he purred.

Buffy nodded and let her head fall back. “More. _Please_ , Spike.”

He sped up, adding more fingers; pumping them in and out of her and not letting up on licking her clit until she was a bundle of nerves that couldn’t have formed a coherent thought for a million dollars. Buffy assumed she’d found the most blissed state a person could experience until, right when she was coming harder than both the other times put together, Spike’s licks turned into him pressing his lips around her clit and sucking in time with the pump of his fingers in a way that had her completely boneless and breathy and entirely at his mercy in a brand new way.

Her inner muscles clamped around his fingers and she moaned so loud, she was glad her mom was in a different city. The neighbors would probably put in a noise complaint but, god, she didn’t care.

Spike slipped his fingers out of her and licked them before lapping up the fresh pool of juices between her legs. Nuh-uh, as much as she now loved his mouth on her, she was not settling for just that. She needed more; needed all of him, and she needed it now. Buffy hauled him up beside her and kissed him deeply as his cock slid inside her, totally forgetting everything she’d said and thought about her second time giving her the wiggins until they were already partway through it. It was becoming clear to her that, with Spike, she didn’t need to worry about him not being that into it, or into her, or anything at all. He was so expressive, she didn’t have a doubt in the world about the feelings he professed. And wasn’t that the most revolutionary thing ever?

“Yes!” she cried. “This! This is–” she broke off in another moan.

Spike grinned and nuzzled her throat, his fingers finding her nipple and rubbing it, _just right_.

She exploded again, practically seeing stars in front of her eyes.

“Oh, my god! How do you _do_ that?”

“This?” asked Spike, rocking his hips against her.

“Ye-yes, oh, god!”

He took a deep, satisfied breath. “This is easy with you. I’d hoped, but I’d never thought….”

“What?” asked Buffy, just about managing to keep her eyes open despite that wicked thing he was doing to her nipple.

“You,” he said. “You’re amazing. So–” he twisted his hips again “–so bloody gorgeous. I love the way you moan.”

“I–I, _uhh_!” she agreed, the sentence she’d been planning to say completely escaping her. Spike seemed to take that as a sign that conversation time was over, because he put his mouth back to work on sucking on her neck and fucked her faster and faster until she’d gone past moaning into screaming and he’d joined in. 

They were hoarse by the time they came, in unison. Spike pillowed his head against Buffy’s breast and sighed contentedly, clearly enjoying the afterglow as much as her.

By now, the point had been completely hammered home that Spike did not do half measures. He went all in, and now he was going all in with her. It was a stark realization, but Buffy found herself on a knife-edge, completely ready to fall for him just as hard if only she’d let herself. Did she want to? She couldn’t have believed it just twenty hours ago but, after today, yes, yes she did. Did she dare? _God!_ She bit her lip, because she was so close to just blurting out all the feelings she hadn’t known she’d had. She loved what he was doing to her, she loved that it was _him_ , and although it completely blew her mind, it really wasn’t that big a leap to just loving him. Period. This version of him that had opened up and held nothing back. 

“Spike?” she panted. 

“Buffy?” he panted right back, his eyes big and blue and eager. 

What could she ask him to secure her vow? To be good? To never give up the ferocity that he was loving her with right now? He looked at her and she knew she didn’t have to ask anything. If she wanted him to never pull back, all she had to do was throw her last chip in the middle; do that thing Drusilla had never granted him. 

She swallowed and said his name again. 

“Yeah, love?” he asked, looking a little worried now. 

“Spike, I love you.”


	5. Chapter 5

Spike’s breath caught. Surely he hadn’t heard her right, because there was no way she could feel… because _no one_ had _ever_ felt that. Ever. Not for him. Not in that way.

Buffy was staring back at him, wide-eyed, biting that delicious lip of hers again. “D-did I say the wrong thing?”

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers, entirely overwhelmed. “The whole world’s on its arse. _I’m_ wrong, and you’re right. I’m evil and you’re–”

“In love,” supplied Buffy.

He opened his eyes again so he could study her. He wanted to ask how, and when, and _how_ , but was terrified of talking her out of it. Did he dare believe she could really–? With him? It didn’t compute. He was like an ant to her; shouldn’t even be able to come close to touching her. And yet, here they were, in bed.

“Bloody hell, Buffy!” He pressed his lips to hers. So what if her loving him didn’t make a lick of sense? _Him_ loving _her_ was beyond reason, but he was head over heels anyway, logic be damned. He gave up trying to figure it and lost himself in kissing her again. Two minutes previous, he’d been ready to sleep like the dead, but now… well! It changed things. Changed everything. Of course it did. It was only natural that his body reacted.

Gently, he rolled his hips, enjoying the feel of re-hardening inside her. She was so warm, and wet, and human, it was entirely different from any of the sex he’d had before. And because it was her, it was better; wasn’t just sex.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she rolled with him, rocking in time with his thrusts until he wasn’t sure which one of them was leading and which one was following. Not that he cared, so long as it never, ever stopped.

Utterly helpless, he whispered more professions of his own devotion against her hair, a thrill going through him when she said the words again right back. Come morning, he was going to get her to put it in writing and sign her name at the bottom. He was gonna frame it. Get it as a tattoo. Buy Red the biggest fruit basket he could find.

How could he have been this close to having Buffy all along? Even when he’d finally come to terms with his own feelings, he’d not dreamt they’d ever be returned. It went beyond luck; beyond destiny, or any of that rot. Willow’s spell might have been the catalyst, but them here and now was a choice on both their parts. Who could have ever imagined she’d choose him?

“Hey,” she said, lightly, like they weren’t in the middle of things. “Lot on your mind?”

He blinked at her, belatedly realizing that his movements had stalled as his brain went up through the gears. With a grin, he got right back on task. It wasn’t like him to leave a lady waiting, after all.

When sleep finally did come, several intense and blissfully thoughtless minutes later, Spike fell into it confident he’d had the best day known to man.

\---

As great as the day before had been, Buffy woke up determined to top it. All of her muscles ached and every cell inside of her was still exhausted, but she felt so impossibly happy, she was going to revel in every single second of it.

She kissed Spike awake and then laughed, because his lower half woke up a full thirty seconds before the rest of him. “Geeze, do you ever stop?”

“Never,” he vowed, opening his eyes to pin her with a look.

Her breath caught and the laughter died, transmuting into warmth in her belly. “G-good.”

Spike grinned at her. “Morning, cutie.”

Buffy’s heart did a little flip. The pet names had irritated her, once upon a time, but now she loved the sound of them. Or maybe she’d always loved the sound of them, and that’s why she’d been irritated, because she couldn’t let herself enjoy them before. Either way, she was gonna make up for that. She was never gonna tell Spike to shut up ever again.

He was leaning close, looking like he wanted to start the whole discovery of each other over again, and Buffy had to press a hand to his chest.

Spike looked up, wounded. “Love?”

She blushed. “I need to eat. And shower. Maybe not in that order.”

“Oh.” His puppy dog expression became a pout. “Human needs, right.”

“Sadly,” said Buffy. “Pancakes?”

The pout evaporated, just like she knew it would. “Sure, pet. Let’s get you all cleaned up and–”

“And you think you’re not taking part in this? _Please!_ ”

He paused, genuine surprise flashing on his face before becoming a sinful grin. “Well, I was gonna say I’d get started on pancakes ahead of you, but if you insist….”

“I do,” said Buffy. “I’m total insist-o-girl.”

He went all doe-eyed at that. “Bloody hell, I love you.”

“How?” said Buffy. “How do you make all your feelings do that?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Eh?”

“They just–” She waved a hand. “Broadcast across your face. You have, like, a thousand expressions and they’re all….” She blushed, before adding shyly, “Gorgeous.”

He went back to stunned. “Gorgeous, am I?”

“Like, totally. It’s no fair.”

He pulled her tight against his chest. “You’re the bloody gorgeous one. Do you know what you do to me?”

Oh, boy, did she ever. She could feel the evidence of what she was doing to him poking her right in the thigh. Suddenly, those other things she needed to do didn’t seem so urgent. Buffy rolled on top of Spike and let them slide right down her to-do list.

\---

It was afternoon before Spike and Buffy made it downstairs. He picked up their clothes from where they’d landed around the living room and Buffy put on a wash. Because grass stains were a bitch, apparently.

She was singing happily to herself as she stood over the pan, spatula in hand. Spike couldn’t help himself but come up and wrap his arms around her waist.

Buffy swatted him playfully. “Okay, we have gotta get you more than one set of clothes.”

“Why?”

“Because–” She turned in his arms and kissed him, only casting a single glance over her shoulder. “One: distracting. I don’t want everything I eat to be chargrilled. Two: could you imagine if my mom walked in on us like this?” He looked off into the distance and she swatted him again. “Okay, don’t imagine it, you totally know what I mean.”

He smiled impishly. “Was there a three?”

“Yep,” affirmed Buffy. “Willow. She’s gonna freak if we’re around the dorm naked all the time. Do you even own underwear?”

Spike took his time reveling in the scene she’d painted, of them together. All the time. In her dorm room and in her mother’s house. It did a dead man’s heart good.

“No,” he said at last. But he would steal some for her. No, _buy_. Buffy would want him to buy them. He had clothes at Harmony’s place, but he decided not to say that out loud. It wasn’t like he’d be going back there again, anyway. “For you, Buffy,” he vowed, “I’ll wear all the clothes in the world.”

“Maybe not all of them,” she said with a wink, turning back to her pancakes. “Ooh, crispy!”

Spike poured her a glass of milk and set a place at the island, snagging the topmost pancake when she brought her plate over.

“So,” said Buffy, clearly not the least bit bothered by his sticky fingers when it came to her food. “Plan: come nightfall, we go back to the military base place, try and find a way inside, and see if we can dig up some intel. Files or something.”

“Sure,” said Spike. “And until then?”

She grinned again. “That’s a different plan.”

He raised a single, scarred eyebrow. “Is it, now?”

“Oh, yeah,” she breezed. “I have all kinds of….” She swallowed. “Plans.”


	6. Chapter 6

“I can’t believe it,” said Buffy, for easily the sixteenth time.

“Why not?” asked Spike again, keeping pace with her and ignoring the fact she hadn’t answered him any of the fifteen times previously.

Finally, she stopped and turned. “Riley!”

“Who?”

She shook her head and started walking again. “My jerk of a T.A.. He was one of the guys in there. The commando guys.”

“T.A.?” Spike questioned.

“Teaching Assistant. And someone who had been actively trying to date me until, like, two days ago.”

_Oh, really?_ “What happened two days ago?”

She cast a pointed look at their joined hands. “Like you don’t know.”

“No,” said Spike. “ _I_ know. What I mean is, how did _he_ know?”

“Huh? Oh.” She blushed. “I kinda ran into him while I was out trying to get ingredients from the Magic Box. Giles’ blindness, remember?”

“Yeah,” he affirmed, trying not to be too baffled by the fact that had only been two days ago. Or, wait. Was that only the day before? Bloody hell! He knew they’d moved fast, but crikey. Spike shook himself and zoned back in to hear the rest of Buffy’s rant about never knowing what was really going on with a guy, under the surface. He was a little offended until she smiled, finally, and added, “Except for you, Mr. Awesome Boyfriend Guy.”

_Well._ That wasn’t the name he’d been trying to make for himself the whole time he’d been in Sunnydale but, hell, he’d take it. Mentally adding it to his list of tattoos to acquire some time, he pulled Buffy into a kiss.

They were both getting really into it when she dropped the folder she’d been holding in her other hand, the pages scattering.

“Crap, we need those!”

Spike sighed and helped her pick them up. He’d have to learn a little self-control. Maybe. At some point.

Pages all back in the folder, albeit in the wrong order, they carried on their way to the Watcher’s place. The sooner they got the debrief over with, the sooner Spike could take Buffy back to bed and ravish her all over again. What was that about self-control? Oh, right.

Loath as he was to do it, Spike released Buffy’s hand and stood a little way apart from her as she knocked on Giles’ door. She looked at him – upset, if Spike didn’t know any better – before the door opened and Buffy’s gaze faced forward again. As she got caught up in the formalities of greeting her watcher and giving him a rundown of their little trip to the commando labs, Spike tried to puzzle out her reaction. Had she not wanted him to pretend they weren’t together? If he was to have the title of boyfriend, he supposed her friends would have to find out sooner or later, but he’d assumed she’d naturally gravitate to the second of those two options.

Spike sat himself in the recliner in the corner of the room and watched Buffy to see where she’d place herself and how. She didn’t settle at all, however; just hovered to the right of Giles’ shoulder as he put the pages back in order, muttered to himself about grass stains, and set about reading.

“Hmm,” he said at last, raising his head and taking off his glasses to wipe at them.

“Hmm?” questioned Buffy. “What? Do we have enough to blackmail them or whatever? Make them shut down?”

“I believe we do,” said Giles.

“But?” pressed Buffy, biting her lip.

Spike salivated just looking at her teeth nip into her pink, soft lower lip. It took him a minute before he realized Giles was talking to him. “What’s that?”

“Your… _incapacitation_ ,” said Giles. “It’s a microchip, not a spell.”

Huh. He didn’t rightly know how to feel about that. Spells could be reversed, but technology was an unknown quantity. “What else?”

Giles put his glasses back on and flicked through the pages to double-check something. “It – ah, here it is – it doesn’t appear to affect demons.”

“Well, that’s dumb,” said Buffy. “Of course it affects demons. Because, hello!” She waved a hand at Spike. “Demon!”

Giles gave her a tight smile. “I meant Spike’s inability to hurt people. It is limited to… well, people.”

“Demons can be people,” said Buffy automatically, tossing her hair and adding “never mind,” when Giles looked at her oddly. “The point?”

“He’s saying I can beat up other vamps and demons without the headache,” said Spike.

“Oh.” She stared blankly as she took a moment to process that, then beamed wide. “ _Ooh_ , this is great!”

Giles gave her another quizzical look before turning his gaze back to Spike. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in offering your… _services_ to our cause?”

Spike held back the joy he felt at the revelation as well as the second-hand excitement bouncing off Buffy and said, casually as he could, “Yeah, all right.” Because he’d of course been planning to try and find a way to do that anyway. Not that she needed the help, but it was just so damn fun.

“Well then,” said Giles, setting the papers aside and standing up. “Tea?”

The second he’d toddled off to the kitchen, Buffy had crossed the room and settled herself in Spike’s lap. “Isn’t this great?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Of course.” Though he did have to wonder what would happen with his chip if the military blokes did get shipped out. Getting his spot of violence fighting other demons was grand, but he didn’t much like the thought of having his free will tampered with. He wanted to be able to show Buffy that not killing humans could be a choice, and one he’d happily make for her, no hardware needed.

Buffy seemed to read his mind, because her smile dimmed a little. She stroked the back of his head. “We’ll find a way to fix you.”

He stared up at her, freshly surprised. She kept doing that. Saying and doing the unexpected thing. “You mean that?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, what would happen if – I don’t know – you were attacked by a mob again? Like in Poland. You should be able to defend yourself.”

“Prague,” corrected Spike. “And yeah, good point.” He smiled again. “Bloody hell, Summers, I love you.”

Buffy’s smile bounced back to maximum wattage and she leaned in for a kiss. Spike wasn’t sure how long it went on for before they were interrupted by the sound of tea things crashing to the floor.


	7. Chapter 7

Buffy froze in Spike’s lap. Very, very slowly, she turned to look at Giles, who was standing in the archway between the kitchen and living room, surrounded by broken china and a puddle of tea, gaping at her like a fish.

She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “Umm… hi?”

Giles waved a hand in front of his face. “Dear lord, is it happening again?”

Buffy stood up and tugged Spike by the hand over to the couch. She had to hope sitting beside him rather than on top of him would help put Giles at ease, at least a little. They could totally talk about this like adults, right?

Giles did sit opposite them on the couch, but Buffy couldn’t tell if that was just so he didn’t fall down instead.

“Looking awfully pale there, watcher,” Spike noted.

Buffy gave him a look she hoped said, ‘please just let me handle this,’ and was thankful when he squeezed her hand and left his commentary there.

“So,” she began. “Me and Spike. We’re, um… a thing.” No, that wasn’t right. “We’re dating,” she amended. _Am I being disloyal to leave out the part where I love him? It’s not really Giles’ business, but I don’t want Spike to think I’m ashamed of the fact._ She swallowed. _I also don’t want Giles to have a stroke._

“What does Willow say on the matter?” asked Giles.

“Willow?” questioned Buffy. “Nothing, yet. Why do you–? Oh.” She sighed. “Giles this isn’t a spell. Not this time.”

“You said that the last time.”

“Fine,” said Buffy. “I did, and it was, but it’s not now.”

“If you’ll forgive me, I’m afraid I’m rather doubtful about that.”

Buffy huffed a frustrated breath. “We haven’t seen Willow. Not since yesterday, when she broke the spell.”

Giles’ brow furrowed together. “She hasn’t been home? All night or all day? Buffy, you must admit that’s fairly concerning.”

“Uh, no,” said Buffy, now feeling a different kind of heat rise to her cheeks. “It’s me who hasn’t been back to the dorm.”

“But why?” asked Giles. “You said you were lying low last night, but that was hours ago and…” he tapered off, going paler still.

“Yeah, we, umm….” She bit her lip. “We wanted some privacy.”

“I see,” said Giles. “And when did this happen?” he asked then, scarily calm. “The desire to, ah… have privacy?”

“Well,” said Buffy, “It’s kind of….” _Ugh._ _Why is my mouth suddenly dry as a desert?_ She looked forlornly at the tea seeping into the floor and shook her head. There was no point in beating around the bush. “It’s been a long time coming,” she said at last. “Willow’s spell sped things up.”

Bingo. That seemed to pique Giles’ curiosity. He sat forward a little. “How do you mean?”

“Well,” Buffy said again, only to be cut off by Spike.

“I’ve loved her since day one,” he admitted. “Didn’t realize it then, of course. Just put it down to your bog-standard sexual tension or whatall, but Dru saw that truth of it. It’s why she ended things.”

Buffy stared at him. “Day one?” she questioned. He’d definitely glossed over that detail.

Spike grinned at her. “Yeah. Very first sight of you on that dance floor and I was gone.”

She felt her blush deepen. “You were watching me dance?”

He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Buffy had to force herself to look back at Giles and make him understand immediately, because she had a sudden need for privacy again.

Giles had gone back to gaping at her, clearly in no rush to understand anything. “You’re saying Drusilla foretold this?” he questioned Spike.

“Yeah,” said Spike. “Though it took me a while to figure out what the hell she was goin’ on about. I didn’t want to see it, right? I know it’s not exactly bloody normal. So, yeah, there was denial. But, well… the feelings grew, init. Eventually, I accepted them. Never thought Buffy would ever feel the same.”

“And Buffy?” Giles prompted, now clearly fascinated.

She cleared her throat. “So, um… I’ve been having dreams. For a _long_ time.”

“How long?” Giles and Spike asked at once.

“Uh… day one?” she admitted, shyly.

“Bloody hell.” Spike and Giles said in unison.

“What kind of dreams?” Spike added.

“No,” said Giles, raising a hand. “I’m quite sure I don’t want to know.”

Buffy winced. “You, um, kind of don’t.”

He sighed, completely resigned. “All of this raises many more questions, but the more I learn, the less I want to have ears attached to my head. You’re absolutely certain this is not a spell?”

“It’s not,” said Buffy, keeping her tone as serious as she could without sounding upset about it. “I’m actually really happy.”

“Well,” concluded Giles, “at least that’s one point in Spike’s favor above Angel.”

“There’s no bloody comparison,” said Spike, which made Buffy smile.

“No,” she agreed, “there’s not.”

“All right,” said Giles, all but throwing up his hands. “I know what you’re like when you’ve got an idea in your head. I suppose I’ll have to learn to live with it.”

Buffy turned her smile on him. “Thank you.”

“Your approval means a lot,” said Spike, clearly feeling charitable again.

Giles waved a dismissive hand. “I wouldn’t go as far as approval.”

Spike glared. “I meant Buffy. I don’t give a toss what you think.”

“Mutual,” said Giles, standing up and walking towards the kitchen. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an antique tea set to sweep up and brandy to consume.”

Buffy watched him go, supposing it was the best she could have hoped for.

Spike tugged on her hand, bringing her attention back to him. “You okay?”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

He kissed her knuckles again. “Should we head on? Leave him to it?”

Buffy stood up and reached for her jacket. The words ‘I guess’ were on the tip of her tongue again, but she got distracted by some papers stuffed down the side of the couch.

Spike looked over her shoulder at what had her paused. “Ah, the wedding plans.”

“Yeah,” she said, voice small.

“Hey!” He wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her back flush with his chest. “What’s this, then? Looking at them makes you sad?”

She frowned. “It does, actually.” What was that about? She wasn’t kidding when she’d told Giles this was the happiest she’d ever been, yet looking over her doodles of Spike in a tux was like a gut punch.

He sighed lightly beside her ear, his breath tickling her. “If you want a wedding, let’s have one.”

She turned and frowned at him. “Don’t joke.”

“I’m not,” said Spike. “Not if it’s what’ll make you happy. Take a year to plan it, if you want. There’s no rush. Hell, take a decade. Doesn’t matter to me.”

God, the butterflies were back with a vengeance. Or were they bats? “We can’t, can we?”

“Why not?” asked Spike.

Buffy opened her mouth to tell him exactly why not, except she couldn’t think of a single reason. Instead of threatening to make her up-chuck, the butterfly-bats swirling in her belly settled into a rhythm that made her hands and feet go tingly. “We really could?”

Once more, Spike raised her hand to his lips. “You’re aware you’re still wearing my ring, right?”

“Duh!” said Buffy. Of course she hadn’t taken it off. Why would she? _Wait a second._ “We’re still engaged?”

“Unless you wanna call it off,” said Spike, sounding nonchalant when she knew he was anything but.

_Oh my god!_ Buffy squealed and threw her arms around his neck. “Giles, I’m getting married!”


End file.
